


Descent into Madness Part Three

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: Descent Into Madness [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Caning, Choking, Cock Cages, Cold, Collars, Dildos, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gags, Growing list of toys used in a dub con/non con fashion, Hoods, Humbler, Leashes, M/M, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-01-22 14:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12484028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: Another month has passed since Mycroft and Sherlock last visited Sherrinford. They return there, fearing what could happen if they don't.





	1. A Bit of Exercise

Sherlock sat with Rosamund on his lap, staring into space. 

"Hadn't you better be going, babe?" John called out from the kitchen. 

The detective looked up at the clock and sighed. 

"What is it? You were acting odd when you got home last time."

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Up you get," he patted Rosie's hip. "Daddy will see you Sunday."

She threw her little arms around his neck and didn't seem to want to let go. That made it all the more difficult for Sherlock to set her aside. He didn't want to leave everything he had ever wanted for the nightmare the next few days were sure to be. He sighed. He and Mycroft had to find out how Eurus had taken over Sherrinford again. Even then it was unlikely they'd be able to stop her. 

Sherlock finally managed to struggle free from Rosie's grip when John grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "You'll tell me what you and Mycroft do there. One day."

"It's not a secret. Eurus gets... lonely. We play games with her and keep her entertained." The detective shrugged. "At least for a bit." He hadn't lied, he'd just omitted a vast number of details.

John nodded once. "Right." He didn't believe his boyfriend at all, but was distracted by bending over to pick Rosie up who had ran to his side.

Sherlock's phone buzzed and he glanced down to see a message from his brother. Mycroft was waiting in the car outside. He kissed Rosie and John, then picked up his bag. Packing was more in the way of a decoy, he wouldn't get to use any of it, but if he didn't take it, John would get suspicious.

"Hello, little brother," Mycroft said by way of greeting. 

Sherlock just huffed as he climbed into the car. "Ready for a fun action packed holiday of a life time?"

Mycroft didn't have it in him to shoot back something snide. He felt the same about their upcoming excursion as his brother did.

"So what exactly are we going to do this time? Go with everything?" Sherlock asked.

"We need to find out how she got control again. I can't believe we haven't before."

"We've been preoccupied."

Mycroft turned his umbrella, the ferrule resting against the floor of the car. "It's pointless for us to wear wires or to carry any such devices with us."

Sherlock barked a laugh at that. "She'll probably have us stripped within five minutes of our arrival, so I would agree with that."

The car screeched to a halt before they could pull up anywhere near to the helicopter. 

"Spoke too soon, little brother."

"You know, I'm always doing that."

A booming voice came over a loud speaker. "Out of the car, Holmeses."

The brothers glanced at each other, then climbed out of the car. Mycroft leant on his umbrella, ankles crossed. Sherlock crossed his arms and leant against the car. The pair both looked around for their sister, but she was nowhere in sight. 

"Any ideas, big bro?"

Mycroft shrugged, rolling his eyes at the armed Sherrinford guards that appeared out of nowhere. With guns on them, the brothers had to let themselves be handcuffed.

"Well, Eurus must be really bored," Sherlock quipped as he was dragged a short distance from his brother.

"Hmm," Mycroft agreed. "Bit early."

"Maybe she's running out of ideas."

Mycroft barked a laugh. "I'm sure she has plenty, little brother."

The two were dragged to the helicopter and forced to their knees beside each other as headphones were forced over their heads.

Sherlock glanced at his brother in confusion. There was white noise playing over the headphones. It made no sense, the helicopter provided noise enough.

Sherlock's first and only attempt at getting to his feet failed when he was kicked in the bollocks. He hissed out, trying to double over, but was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and forced to straighten up.

The helicopter left the ground and ascended swiftly. Mycroft swayed on his knees as the helicopter made a sharp turn. He too was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and 'helped' back into position.

The two Holmeses had been looking forward to their last few hours of freedom before the weekend. Instead, that had been swiped away as easy as anything. It probably didn't help that neither of them resisted it. 

Eventually, Sherrinford came into view. It looked as gloomy and miserable as it always did. They drew near rapidly and soon landed.

The pair were shoved out so roughly, Mycroft stumbled, collapsing to his knees, Sherlock going into the back of him. 

"Sorry, brother-mine," Sherlock said quietly. 

Mycroft just grunted, letting the soldiers pull him upright again. They both looked around, but there was no sigh of Eurus. 

"Well, after her earlier eagerness, this is a bit disappointing," Sherlock told his brother.

"Honestly, I don't mind if she takes her time to make an appearance."

Mycroft was kicked to his feet and they were both grabbed roughly by the arms. 

"Bloody soldiers," Sherlock grumbled. "They're all gorillas."

The older brother barked a laugh.

When guns were pressed into their backs to get them moving, Sherlock raised an eyebrow and said, "This way?" in as infuriating a manner as possible.

They passed through the doors and into the facility and its oppressive atmosphere, but nothing looked out of place. Guards were stationed where they should have been. Still, there was no sign of Eurus.

"I don't like this, Mycroft."

"I know what you mean, brother-mine. Better the devil you know."

Lights began flashing ahead of them, the rest of the corridor going dark. Whilst they were watching the display, their guards released their handcuffs.

Mycroft rubbed his left wrist and tilted his head towards the light. "Shall we?"

Together, they moved to the lit portion of the corridor. Once they reached it, the light above them went out and one came on down the corridor to the right. In this manner, they went where they were led without being spoken to once.

They weren't surprised to find themselves outside of a cage. At least it was big enough for both of them, rather than locking them up away from each other. Sherlock supposed it was the fact Eurus always got a better reaction when the brothers were together. Inside the cage, as well as the customary dog beds, were mats on the floor and other gym equipment. 

"Does she expect us to do press ups?" Sherlock asked only half sarcastically.

Mycroft shrugged. "I wouldn't know." He examined the cage closely, then turned to look back the way they had come. "The guards didn't interfere with our short journey here, but I have no doubt they would react badly should we retrace our steps."

"We could try it?"

Mycroft shook his head. "It's not worth it."

"Then we go in there," Sherlock stared at the open cage gate. 

"Seems like it."

They both walked inside and nothing happened. It wasn't until Sherlock reached out and pulled the gate shut - the automatic lock hissing - that anything happened. 

Two lights shined down on the two mats.

"It just might be press ups after all," Sherlock observed.

Mycroft snorted and simply sat down on the mat. "Well, I refuse to guess as to her intentions." He leant back against the wall of the cage. "Are you joining me?" At that, the detective sat on the other mat.

They weren't sat peacefully for very long. In a matter of seconds, the doors had opened and guards were banging on the cage.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Do any of you actually speak?" When the guards kept banging on the cage, he added, "You know, that's when your mouth moves and words come out."

The cage door opened and 4 guards came in. 2 grabbed Sherlock, pulling him to his knees. 2 grabbed Mycroft, but they forced him over the mat.

"I can't believe I'm going to do press ups in my suit," Mycroft grumbled. It was the only thing that made sense for him to do considering the position he had been forced into.

Sherlock was kept on his knees, not being able to move. Even so, he could still talk. "What is this achieving, Eurus? Seeing how much my big brother can make his suit smell?"

"And scuff... my shoes... Don't forget... about that," Mycroft puffed on each press up.

Sherlock chuckled. "Jogging is more your thing, isn't it, big brother?"

"Hence the… press ups…" Mycroft grunted, not really minding because he was fitter than he looked. 

Sherlock wanted to burst out laughing at how ridiculous this was, but he didn't want to tempt fate. This was far better than the alternative.

It went on long enough that Mycroft's arms started trembling on each press up. He had managed an impressive number of them, but soon his arms would give out. He dreaded what would happen when they did. He had been hoping he would be told to stop, but he hadn't been. Eventually he collapsed in a puffed out heap. 

The guards that had moved him before stepped forwards and dragged him to his knees. 

Sherlock was forced into the position his big brother had just been in. He rolled his eyes. Press ups were boring. Still, they weren't so bad. He made sure to perform them as slowly as possible in order to drag whatever this was out. At his big brother's grunt, Sherlock looked over. 

Mycroft had been forced to the floor, still breathing heavily as his arms were forced up his back. "I think they want you to go faster, little brother."

With a grimace of acknowledgement, the detective increased his pace until the guards released Mycroft's arms. "What... is the... point... of this?" he asked between press ups.

"And why isn't our dear sister talking to us?"

"Myc…roft. We don't… even know if… she's watching."

"I think we can be fairly certain she is, brother dear. We're having a little training session for some reason."

Sherlock's arms started trembling, even he had his limits. He kept going as long as he could, then he collapsed, chest heaving, onto the mat.

"Eurus!" Mycroft yelled, now he had his breath back. 

There was no response. The one TV in the cage remained black. 

Guards launched themselves at the detective immediately. They hauled him to his feet and indicated the bar that ran across the length of the cage.

"There's no way. I can't." The younger brother rubbed his arms. "Not this soon."

He was shoved in front of it. 

Mycroft cleared his throat. "I will."

The guards stared at him for a moment before shoving him forward too. Mycroft grasped the bar and started pulling himself up. 

With a grimace, Sherlock did likewise, his arms already aching. He only managed it because different muscle groups were used, but he was still winded and shaking.

"Lock… the idea was I would go first."

Sherlock glanced over his shoulder, the guards had dropped back so he let go of the bar and landed nimbly on his feet.

In truth, he was surprised that the guards didn't close in on him immediately and make him resume the pulls ups. Not that he had room to complain. He let his body rest while it had a chance. He thought he'd exercise his mind instead, trying to work out what was being achieved by making the two brothers go to the gym and also staying hidden.

He simply didn't have enough data. That had always been the problem where his sister was concerned: a dearth of data. Even now that Mycroft had revealed everything he knew, the brothers were still in the dark about so many things.

Mycroft's pace was soon beginning to dwindle. He blamed middle age. Sherlock knew he wouldn't have much longer to recover from the first stage. 

When the older Holmes could do no more, he dropped to his feet. "Sorry, 'Lock."

Sherlock gave him a nod in acknowledgement and grasped the bar. This time, the pull ups came far easier and he kept up a steady pace.

Mycroft collapsed back onto the mat, panting heavily. He looked around for some inspiration into what was going on and instead only noticed the locked cage gate and 4 guards keeping them company.

On each pull up, Sherlock let out a puff of air, he was tiring. He hated to surrender and find out what was going to happen next, but soon enough, he was forced to drop to his feet as his arms gave out. "Sorry, Myc. Didn't… last as long as… I was hoping."

"It's fine."

This time the guards gave them a moment to compose themselves.

Taking advantage of the unexpected break, Mycroft divested himself of both his jacket and waistcoat. If they were going to be made to exercise for some obscure reason, he might as well be as comfortable as possible. His tie didn't take long in following. 

Sherlock actually snickered as his brother removed his shirt from the inside of his trousers and loosened the top few buttons. 

"You look like an older me, now, Mycie," Sherlock said chucking his own jacket with the rest of Mycroft's clothes.

"Ha, ha." Mycroft started to sit down, but one of the guards threw a skipping rope to him. "Oh, for the love of-"

Sherlock burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that he doubled over with it.

"I'm not a little girl!" Mycroft snapped. "If anyone should be skipping it should be our dear little sister." When two guards stepped towards him dangerously, Mycroft backed off. "Fine!"

Try as he might, Sherlock couldn't stop laughing. For the first and only time in this place, he wished he had a camera, but his phone had been taken during the helicopter flight.

"Do shut up, little brother," Mycroft hissed, he wasn't that good with the rope as he had been when he was younger and ended up tripping many times.

The guards didn't seem to care. They were waiting for something, for him to become winded and fall to the floor, most likely. It took a while, but Mycroft finally found his rhythm. Once he found it, Mycroft managed to keep going for a long while. Eventually he dropped the rope and slid down to the floor, against the cage wall.

Sherlock took the rope from Mycroft's hands, still chuckling. When he started jumping, he crossed the rope back and forth, hopped on just one foot, then the other. The look on his brother's face was priceless.

Mycroft unbuttoned a couple more buttons as he glared up at him.

"I have a 5 year old daughter at home, Mycroft."

The government official inclined his head in acknowledgement. 

"She laughed at me when I fell over the first time."

That brought a wistful smile to Mycroft's lips. He was constantly amazed by the change in his brother. Just a few years ago, there was no way Sherlock would have made a fool of himself for the amusement of a child.

"It's not just any child, Mycroft," the detective pointed out, reading his older brother's mind. 

"No, little brother. Quite right."

The detective started getting tired, but he kept jumping.

"Could I perhaps get some water?" Mycroft asked the nearest guard. He was completely ignored. "I suppose not."

Sherlock chucked the rope to the side, then tried for the cage gate. He was immediately apprehended. 

"Did you expect that to work, Sherlock?"

"Obviously not. I was just hoping for some response from the monkeys."

"You got it."

Sherlock took the jump rope, unfastened a couple of shirt buttons and started jumping again. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up forever.

"Sherlock, wait."

"Huh?"

"They've backed off."

"Yes. Because I'm skipping again."

"No… stop skipping."

When he did, the guards didn't do anything. Sherlock took off his shirt and wiped his face with it, then tossed it aside. "Interesting."

With that, two guards stepped out of the cage. The two who had held Sherlock. 

Sherlock glanced down at his brother. "Myc, take your shirt off."

Eyebrow raised, the government official did so. Immediately, the other two guards left the cage. "Nice deduction, baby brother," he said grudgingly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. But what was the point?"

"Eurus clearly wants us with no shirts on."

"Sweaty."

Mycroft made a face. "Let's not carry that thought any further. After what happened on our last visit, her lack of boundaries is even clearer."


	2. To Protect You

As Sherlock and Mycroft began to regain their breath, the TV flickered to life.

The government official sighed. "This won't be good."

But nothing happened. Only static. Very annoying static. It grated on both their nerves.

"It's just like on the helicopter," Sherlock pointed out. He considered throwing one of his shoes at it, but it wouldn't fit through the bars of the cage. Sherlock leant back against the cage and closed his eyes.

"Are you seriously going to try and sleep?"

"I hid in the Middle East for 2 years. I've slept in worse conditions."

Mycroft knew that, of course, but he didn't like to think of it. His brother might be taking the wiser course of action, but he knew he couldn't fall asleep right now despite being exhausted. Instead, he took the time to examine the room and the cell they were in. Unfortunately, it didn't reveal anything of use.

"Wasting energy, Mycroft," Sherlock said, eyes closed.

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're trying to outthink our sister. It won't happen."

"You got us out of here last time."

"And she's compensated for that."

Mycroft sat and crossed his arms across his chest. What was Eurus playing at?

Slowly, the static began to fade away and a song started growing in volume. It was some pop thing, nothing Mycroft recognised.

Sherlock chuckled beside him, his eyes still closed.

"What?"

"I have a boyfriend who insists Rosie be allowed to listen to pop music."

"Well, John is wrong."

"I'm not disagreeing."

They listened as the lyrics became audible. "Every breath you take. Every move you make. Every bond you break. Every step you take. I'll be watching you..."

"That's nice. Our dear sister is assuring us that she's there." Mycroft leant against the cage bars. "The song is almost tolerable."

Sherlock barked a laugh. "Just go to sleep, brother dear."

"You hate sleeping. What are you really plotting?"

"Nothing."

"If Eurus wanted us to sleep, she'd play us a-" Mycroft broke off as a lullaby started playing instead of the pop song. "Fine. I'll try to sleep, but I make no promises…"

* * *

Eighthours later, a loud blaring came through the speakers. Both Holmeses jerked alert, Sherlock whacking his head against the cage without meaning to.

"Ow!" He covered his ears, as did his brother, until the sound stopped. "We're awake!" he shouted into the air. "Couldn't you find a nicer way to give us a wakeup call?"

Mycroft barked a laugh. "That is nice in her book."

The door to the cell opened and Eurus walked in. "Hello, dear brothers. Good to see you again. I think." She leant against the cell wall, staring into the cage.

"You're here to bring us breakfast, aren't you, sister?" Sherlock quipped. "Just tea and toast for me. Mycroft?"

"Enough," the word was spoken softly, but had her usual dangerous edge to it.

"Why? We're bored already."

Eurus launched herself at the cage, rattling it with her ferocity.

"I guess this means no breakfast."

"Sherlock," Mycroft said with a smile, "do shut up. You're upsetting our little sister."

Sherlock snickered. "Is she ever happy? Was she ever happy?"

"Sherlock. Shut. Up!" Mycroft insisted.

The detective huffed. "Fine."

Eurus had made her way, hand over hand, all the way around the cage. She stopped where she had begun. "You're bored. I'm bored. We're all bored."

"Who's fault is that?" Sherlock snapped.

"Sherlock, enough," Mycroft hissed. "Don't poke the bear."

"I'm not a bear, brother dear. I'm far worse than that when I'm bored." She swayed where she stood, her gaze far away. "I don't think either of you want to be here. You never did want to play with me." She focused on Mycroft abruptly. "It was your fault. You kept little Lock's attention all for yourself."

"I kept him safe."

Eurus laughed dryly. "You did no such thing. You kept him all to yourself."

"You killed his best friend. I protected him until he found another."

Sherlock swallowed hard, then looked away. He couldn't afford to let his sister know how much Mycroft's words affected him.

"Mycr-" Eurus began.

Sherlock interrupted her. "Leave Mycroft alone and I'll play with you willingly. Anything you want. You won't have to threaten me."

Eurus frowned. "But threatening you is the best part." She sighed. "Oh well. On your knees, Sherlock. Hands behind your head."

"Sherlock, why are you-"

"Let me do this, Mycroft," he murmured, pushing himself to his knees and raising his hands.

"No!" Mycroft grabbed Sherlock by the arm and pulled him around. "You can't do this."

With a clap of Eurus' hands, two guards entered the cell and pulled Mycroft off of his brother, then cuffed him to the edge of the cage. Mycroft tugged at the cuffs with futility. "Eurus, please don't!"

"Ignore him," Eurus ordered the guards who had turned on the detective.

"You'll play my games, any game?" She snapped her fingers and the guards started kicking Sherlock. When he didn't move to fight back, just curled in on himself, she snapped her fingers again and they stopped.

"Get back on your knees, brother dear,"

Mycroft watched in horror as Sherlock pushed himself back into position, raising his hands once more.

Eurus sat down in front of Sherlock, crossing her legs. She held out her hand palm up, seeming to wait. Cautiously, the younger of the two brothers moved his hand from behind his head and placed it in hers.

Eurus tilted her head to the side. "You have pretty hands. At least I think so. They look like a violinist's hands."

Sherlock swallowed and stared at where his younger sister's hand gripped his. He was half waiting for it to turn to fire and burn him.

"I'm… a violinist," he managed.

"Hm, yes." Eurus smiled and turned his hand over, looking at the palm. "Have you composed anything lately?"

The detective nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Something for your boyfriend," Eurus deduced. "And something for your little girl." She frowned. "But nothing for me."

Sherlock struggled to sound calm. He didn't like Rosie being mentioned by his sister. "I've never written anything for Mycroft, either," he pointed out.

"I want you to write me."

Sherlock swallowed again, his eyes darting to Mycroft. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm locked in a cage without a violin."

Eurus threw his hand away. Rather than being stupid, he just put it back behind his head, watching carefully.

"You promised me that you would play my games," she hissed as she got on her knees and moved forward. She didn't stop until they were pressed together. "If I have a violin brought and paper, you will write me. If you don't, I'll write your brother. And I'll do it with a knife on his back."

"Alright," Sherlock nodded quickly.

Eurus snapped her fingers and the cage gate was opened. A violin was brought in and given to her. She thrust it into Sherlock's chest. "Take it."

For a moment, Sherlock thought to write something that wouldn't offend his sister, something pleasant and flowing, but he immediately discarded the idea. Eurus would expect him to come up with something in a minor key perhaps that then turned discordant. He stared at the violin for a long while. Eventually he began to pluck at the strings, his fingers moving nimbly over the lower frets, or at least where they would be if it had them.

Mycroft was horrified. He knew his brother had no choice but to compose something true to their sister's character, but how would she react? With every new measure Sherlock played, the government official expected an explosion of fury, but it didn't come.

Eurus swayed.

"Is it… beautiful?" The detective asked eventually.

"No." She shook her head abruptly and Sherlock froze. "It's right."

The detective started playing again, his sister's reaction surprising him. It was almost as if she was hypnotised. "Tell me, little sister, how did you get out of your cell the second time? I need to know, for the music."

Eurus frowned. "I was ill."

Mycroft yanked at the chains holding him to the cage. "Why was I not told?"

"I wasn't really ill. I wondered how people would react to illness."

"So you faked it."

"Everyone treated me like I was made of spun glass. At least for the 30 minutes I kept the game up." Eurus shrugged. "It was 30 minutes I got to play with the doctor and the governor's minds."

"Rookie error, brother-mine," Sherlock mumbled.

Mycroft collapsed back in the cuffs as Eurus snatched the violin from Sherlock's grip.

"Get back on your knees." Eurus began playing her song flawlessly. She played it from beginning to end, then lowered the violin. "I'm glad our brother convinced me not to break you fingers." She handed the violin and bow off to a guard, then lunged forward and gripped Sherlock by the curls, bending his head back.

Sherlock held himself steady, not daring to move even an inch.

"Eurus…" Mycroft tried, but all that happened was the youngest Holmes hissed and tugged at Sherlock's hair.

Eurus started walking towards the cage door, forcing Sherlock to knee walk to keep up with her. He didn't like being separated from his brother. It hadn't led to anything good yet.

She stopped at the gate and a guard pushed a collar into her hands. She locked it around Sherlock's neck and he coughed at how tight it was.

She reached up and poked the leash through a high bar, then stepped out of the cage. Locking it, she began pulling it through the other side, until Sherlock had the choice of choking or being on tip toes.

He brought his hands up, pulling on the collar. "Eurus, please, what did I do?"

"Nothing." She ran her hands through her hair. "There are simply no good stylists on this island. That's what I miss most about London. Isn't that curious?"

"No," Mycroft argued instantly. "It's insane."

"Be quiet, brother dear." She tugged on the leash making Sherlock gag.

"Eurus, stop!" The older brother begged.

"Why?"

"I'll get you a stylist. One from London. To visit you."

Thoughtfully, Eurus slowly released the leash. "And clothes. I'm sick of wearing white all the time."

Mycroft nodded. "Of course. Anything." He was actually surprised that she cared. Hair and clothes were such... normal things for her to be concerned with.

"Get back on your knees, Sherlock."

The detective puffed in a few deep breaths, as he dropped - he'd said he'd obey her if she stayed away from Mycroft.

"Why do you like him on his knees so much?" The older Holmes asked.

Their sister smiled her strange smile and reached out to play with Sherlock's curls. "He looks... pretty on his knees." She wrapped a curl around her finger and pulled until he hissed in pain. His head hit the cage with quite a thump and he grunted. "He's more sweet now though. The look on his face…"

"That's a grimace."

"So?"

"It's in pain!" Mycroft struggled to hold his temper.

"I never did get the hang of that one." She kept pulling. "I suppose I should stop." Abruptly, Eurus let go of Sherlock's curl. "I really should learn the difference someday."

Sherlock fell forward on his knees, choking when the leash caught.

"Oops," Eurus giggled.

Mycroft took a few steadying breaths, hoping they were enough to calm himself. For some inane reason Sherlock had taken this upon himself.

The detective balanced himself and gasped in air. He had managed to hide the bruises on his neck after their last visit and his 'hanging', but if his neck bruised again, he doubted he'd get away with it. John was getting suspicious.

Eurus cleared her throat.

A guard opened the cage and went straight to Mycroft. Before the detective could call out, he'd uncuffed him and was walking away… towards him.

"Hands behind your head, Sherlock," Eurus ordered.

Sherlock did what he was told, and soon found one half of the cuffs around one wrist through the cage bars and around the other, keeping his hands up and out of the way.

Eurus walked behind Sherlock and looked at his back. She reached out and touched one of his scars. "Is the person who did this dead?"

"Yes," the detective ground out through clenched teeth.

"Good. Only I get to mark you like that."

Sherlock didn't like the sound of that.

"What about that one?" She poked a bruise and Sherlock hissed.

"Yes."

"And that one?"

The kneeling man struggled to remain still, he took as deeper breath as he could manage.

"You did that one."

"Good, then you have something to remember me by," Eurus said, prodding at it even more. "I'd hate for you to forget me."

"I could never forget you, Eurus."

"That's a lie."

"I was a child!" Sherlock snapped, wincing again.

"And that's not what I meant."

The detective bowed his head. "Things happened. We couldn't visit as often as we should have. We should have found a way, I see that, but we never forgot you."

"It was months, Sherlock!" She yanked at the leash again, but this time tied it off to the cage bars, then she turned around and left through the door.

Mycroft raced to his side and tugged at the collar. "It won't come off, Lock."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not!" Mycroft barked. "How could you promise her such a stupid thing?" He sat heavily beside his brother. "I'm not worth it."

"It's hardly the end of the world."

"It will be if she leaves you like that for the next 36 hours."

"She won't. That's far too boring for her."

"Why though?"

Sherlock glanced at his brother as best he could. "It was my turn."

Mycroft looked away, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He sought to change the subject. "At least we know how she took control of Sherrinford."

"It was far too easy."

"Perhaps."

"Why weren't you contacted if she was unwell?"

Mycroft shrugged. "Illness of that sort wasn't something I had thought too much into."

Sherlock looked at his brother in disbelief. "Mycroft…"

The government official winced at the unvoiced reprimand. "I know. It was incredibly short sighted of me. But she's in a secure unit with minimal human contact, I hadn't foreseen the chance of her getting ill when people that are ill wouldn't be allowed near her."

Sherlock conceded the point with a grunt. He tried to shrug his shoulders and roll his neck, anything to relieve the discomfort, but it was useless.

Mycroft poked at his leg. "Lift up. You can at least get in my lap. That will give you a few inches of relief."

"And the temperature's dropped."

Mycroft sighed.

"Wait a moment, then." He moved across the cage and grabbed up their shirts and jackets.

It was impossible to get Sherlock's shirt and jacket back on him, so Mycroft used the sleeves to tie them about his neck, then he buttoned up as many buttons as he could manage to keep them wrapped about his brother. He quickly got into his own shirt and jacket and then lifted Sherlock up into his lap. He draped his waistcoat over the pair of them.

"Maybe you're right, Mycie," Sherlock said. "Maybe it should have been your go."

Mycroft let out a little laugh, "Maybe so."


	3. The Nature of Love

The government official's legs had gone numb, but he knew it was nothing compared to the actual pain that his brother had to be feeling in his shoulders. "Eurus!" he shouted into the air, "Come let Sherlock down. Please!" He wasn't surprised there was no response. 

The detective's head fell back against the cage. "One day she'll get bored, Myc."

"Hmm?"

"Well there's only so much she can do to us."

"I sincerely hope you're wrong. If she gets bored with us, she just might decide to break her toys rather than let us walk away."

The muscles in Sherlock's neck cramped and he groaned in pain. Mycroft reached up and massaged the tightly knotted muscles until they relaxed and his brother let out a sigh of relief.

"She only toyed with us a few minutes, and we slept hours, she can't be gone for that much longer."

Mycroft inclined his head in understanding. "There's no logic when it concerns our sister."

At just that moment, Eurus made her appearance. She sat outside the cage near her bothers. The television came on, showing John. "Tell me about him," she ordered.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open. He glanced at the screen and rolled his eyes. 

"What do you want to know? He's gorgeous and he's mine."

"Do you love him?" Eurus asked in a curious tone.

"Yes."

"What's that like?"

Sherlock took a few deep breaths, well as deep as they could get given how he was tied. "Harm him and I will kill you. That's what that is like."

"That's an interesting reaction. Do you feel the same about this man?" she asked Mycroft. On the television, Greg appeared.

"Definitely, dear sister. Hurt him and I'll kill you... But slowly," the government official growled.

"Haven't we already discussed this?" Sherlock grumbled. "It's why you rub them in our faces whenever we deign to visit you."

Eurus hummed. "I want to know what makes them special. Tell me something I can understand and I'll release the handcuffs. I want to know about both of them."

Sherlock didn't know how he could answer that. He didn't know himself. John and Greg were just goldfish.

"They're more than goldfish, little brother," Mycroft observed. 

"I know," he sighed. "But what is it about them?"

Mycroft peered at his brother through narrowed eyes. "John respects you for who you are. He accepts your eccentricities. No, he treasures them, just as he treasures you. You're a better person with him than without."

"There we go, Eurus. I know how to fix you!" Sherlock choked as the leash was yanked tighter. 

"I don't need fixing!"

"We just get you a boyfriend. Or girlfriend, whichever."

Eurus growled low in her throat, "I don't need anyone. I'm fine the way I am. Besides, they would be boring compared to you."

The leash was pulled tighter and Mycroft had to push his brother to his feet. He couldn't work out if Sherlock was deliberately antagonising their sister or trying to help.

The detective was stood in an awkward position. He couldn't kneel, nor could he stand up. "I didn't mean anything by it, Eurus. I needed John to help me understand both myself and other people. I just thought you could use the same."

Their sister kept pulling on the leash until Sherlock had to press himself into the cage bars. "That was meant to be you. You found me, up in the air and you helped me land. It was supposed to be you."

"It is me!" Sherlock replied, spluttering slightly. 

"You left me."

"Can't you see why?" Mycroft snapped, kicking out at the cage.

"Guards!" Eurus shouted as she pointed at her oldest brother. "Take him out of here. I don't want to see him!" She was shaking with fury.

The guards opened the cage and dragged Mycroft away with him protesting every step.

"Eurus," Sherlock said in a rough voice, "you promised not to hurt him."

"I never said I was going to hurt him."

She tied the leash off again and walked into the cage. Without pausing, she bent over and unbuttoned his trousers, yanking them down.

"You lied to me, Sherlock. Mummy said lying was bad. I had to take her word for it because I never understood why until now. You've been bad and now society says you must be punished."

Sherlock thought of resisting having his trousers removed, but if Mycroft was still ok, he couldn't fight her. "I haven't lied to you Eurus."

"You have!"

"When?"

"Don't you listen, dearest brother? You said you'd help me, you'd take me home, you'd help me understand." Eurus walked from the cage and took a heavy cane from one of the guards, then turned back to face Sherlock. "Lies."

"Eurus, it wasn't my fault! I wanted to take you home. But you did bad things."

"Shut up! Shut up and turn around!"

With a soft sigh, the detective turned on his heels and leant against the cage bars.

Eurus was stronger than she looked. When she struck him across his arse, his muscles seized and he cried out in pain. There wasn't any point in trying to remain quiet. Stoicism would earn him nothing except, perhaps, more pain.

As Eurus let the cane drop many times she began to hum. "The only problem is, how do I know when you have been punished enough?"

Sherlock started laughing hysterically through his tears of pain. At the rate she was going, she'd break his skin soon. She might even cause permanent damage. "It's enough!" he shouted. "If you keep this up…" He howled in pain as her next blow broke the cane over his thigh.

Eurus looked at the half of the cane that remained in her hand. "Oops. I suppose that must mean you've had enough."

The door opened and Mycroft charged in, having somehow thrown the guards that had been holding him. 

"Sherlock!" He raced into the cage, but Eurus grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with ease. He fought back furiously and broke free of her hold, but by then, more armed guards had appeared. Mycroft held up his hands in surrender, he couldn't do anything further. "Just let me help him."

Without a word, Eurus waved at one of the guards. He walked over and uncuffed Sherlock, then untied his leash. With a moan of agony, the detective collapsed to the floor.

Eurus and the guards backed out of the cage, locking it behind them.

Sherlock had his eyes screwed up as he tried to protect himself from an invisible threat. 

"Shh, Lock, its only me."

"I definitely should have let you go first."

Mycroft laughed at his brother's dark sense of humour. "Yes. You should have done." He helped his brother roll onto his front and examined Eurus' work. "It could have been worse, all things considered."

Sherlock rested his head on his forearms. "Trade places with me and then tell me it could be worse."

Just then a guard threw an ice pack through the bars in their direction. Mycroft picked it up. "I'm not saying it's very dignified, but I suggest you use this."

"Yeah. Whatever." Sherlock hid his face after he spoke, he was really hating their sister round about now. 

Mycroft pressed the ice pack to the largest swelling; where the cane had broken.

"Grr, that's cold," the younger of the two brothers complained.

"That is rather the point." Mycroft sighed. "What I want to know is, where did you get your inborn ability to piss off psychopaths? It definitely wasn't from Father and I don't think it was from Mummy."

"You?"

"How is it from me?"

"You protected me from her by beating up everyone who came near me. And Moriarty was hardly… normal."

Mycroft sighed, too upset by what had happened to his brother to laugh. "When John sees this-"

"He won't." 

"And just how do you propose to keep him from it, baby brother? It's going to take time for the bruising to fade."

"We don't sleep naked anymore. Not with Rosie walking in at all hours. I'll just shower alone for a few weeks. It will be fine."

"She's psychotic."

"Mycroft, I know."

The lights dimmed, then went out entirely. It made Sherlock feel a bit less self conscious about holding the ice pack against his arse. It was starting to feel painfully cold, so he shifted it to another aching spot. "Do you think the lights going out is a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I think it's an annoying thing."

Sherlock managed to chuckle softly. "I'm glad. At least you can't see my arse anymore."

"Do you want your trousers back?"

"Actually, yes. The material will keep the ice pack from giving me frostbite." He chuckled again. "That's just what I need, a frostbitten arse."

Mycroft felt around in the darkness and found his brother's trousers and pants. "Here. I'll hold the ice pack for you."

Sherlock stood on unsteady legs and dressed his lower half, then he took the opportunity to put his shirt and jacket back on properly.

"Mycroft, how are we going to get control back?"

"I don't know."

"But you run Sherrinford, not our little sister!"

Mycroft didn't say anything to that, how could he? He obviously didn't run anything. If he did, they wouldn't be sitting in the dark in a cage in a cell on the most god forsaken island known to man.

"Anthea."

"What?"

"Why can't you put Anthea in charge of this place? She'd never ignore your instructions."

Mycroft stared in the direction of his brother's voice. "That would work. There would have to be adequate compensation, but she would do it. Anthea is... unhappy with the current state of affairs." 

"She knows?"

"Of course she does, in general. There was no need for her to know the details."

The lights flickered on far too bright. 

"I heard all of that, brother dears."

Mycroft groaned. "Eurus-"

"Don't bother, Mycroft!" she yelled.

Sherlock tried next. "Anthea isn't like the governors you've known. She's completely loyal to Mycroft. She would see to it you have everything you need. She would keep in touch with him and pass him your messages. If we didn't visit, she'd drag us here and make us. You'd like her."

"Why would I let someone take over? I have control now. I'll keep it!"

"You won't be able to resist leaving for long, Eurus. You'll be caught then," Mycroft stated.

"Is that a threat, big brother?"

"No, it is merely an observation based on fact." Mycroft rested his back against the cage. "You know what, baby sister, do whatever you want. I surrender. Have it all your way."

Eurus walked over and poked at him through the cage. "You surrender? Like Sherly?"

"Whatever," he replied, completely out of character. 

"Then you'll stop talking about taking over this place."

Mycroft closed his eyes and nodded.

"Good." Eurus looked over to where Sherlock had lain back down. "Have you learned your lesson yet, dear brother?"

He nodded. 

"Try again, Sherly."

"Yes, Eurus."

"Yes, Eurus, what?"

"I've learnt my lesson," he ground out through gritted teeth. 

She clapped. "Good-o. Isn't that what you're supposed to say in these circumstances?"

"If you like," Sherlock said in a flat tone of voice. He wasn't quite up to poking the bear as his brother had put it.

Eurus ignored his comment. "You used to tell little Lock bedtime stories. I used to pretend you told them to me."

"I did used to tell them to you too!" Mycroft hissed. "You would make him cry and destroy his room."

"How was I supposed to know he was crying? He did it all the time when I was around!"

Mycroft snorted, he couldn't help himself. "The clear liquid running from his eyes might have been a clue. Most children don't run around in tears all the time."

"How was I supposed to know that?" She spat. "He was always doing it! And I never met anyone else."

"You killed a boy when you were 5, Eurus, no wonder!"

"It always comes back to that." Her voice was cold and level. "I don't care. I don't know why everyone else does."

Mycroft sighed. "This conversation is pointless."

She whacked the cage, so that it shook. "I decide what is and isn't pointless, Mycroft!" She hissed.

"Of course you do," he replied. "What would you like to talk about next?"

Sherlock barked out a laugh. "If it's the same to the both of you, I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk. Not only is my arse killing me, but my head has started to hurt."

"Why?" She asked. 

"Why do you think, you bloody psychopath?!"

"I don't like that tone of voice, Sherlock. Don't use it again."

"Or what?"

Mycroft groaned. "Shut up, Sherlock. You're doing it again."

A guard handed Eurus a gag and she tossed it to Mycroft. "Put it on him. If he keeps making me angry, I might have to beat him again."

"Mycroft-"

Mycroft quite gladly shut his brother up by shoving the plastic ball into his mouth. 

"Buckle it nice and tightly, brother dear."

Mycroft didn't so much as flinch under his brother's glare. He'd endured much more from Sherlock in the name of keeping him safe. A glare was nothing.

"That's funny."

"What is?" Mycroft questioned cautiously. 

"The way Sherlock looks at you. You just let him without a rebuke of some kind."

"It's called empathy. I understand exactly how he feels. I would feel the same if our roles were reversed. It doesn't matter. I'm not going to let him provoke you into another beating."

Eurus snapped her fingers and a chair was brought in. She sat down, making herself comfortable. "Why not? Why prevent a beating on behalf of your little brother when your little sister would very much enjoy it."

"I can't make you understand. I've tried. Time and again. Look at it from a practical standpoint. You don't want to break your toy."

"No. But I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were," Mycroft sighed heavily. 

"I would stop before he broke."

"How much longer are you going to make us keep coming here, Eurus?"

"Forever!"

Mycroft shook his head. "Sooner or later, someone will put a stop to it. I won't be able to save you when that happens. Let things go back to how they were. Let us visit you without all these games."

Eurus stood up immediately and Mycroft flinched back. All she did was click her fingers. Guards came in, took the chair and followed her from the room.

Mycroft turned his head to look at Sherlock who was trying to unfasten the gag. "If I take that thing off you, do you think you can manage not to infuriate our sister for five minutes?"

The detective nodded and dropped his hands, allowing Mycroft to unbuckle the gag.

Sherlock snatched it off him and launched it across the room so it bounced off the opposite cage wall.


	4. Surprise

Mycroft sighed. "Why do you feel the need to-"

"I don't know!" Sherlock snapped. "She's just so… childlike."

Mycroft rubbed his forehead, trying to hide his amused exasperation. "Do you ever listen to yourself?"

"No. What would be the point?"

"Nothing at all."

Sherlock chuckled softly, then let his head fall to Mycroft's shoulder. "I'm glad we're in this together, Mycroft," he whispered.

"I'm not so sure that's a compliment. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. Well... maybe one or two." Mycroft smiled when his brother chuckled again. "I suppose we should rest while we can."

"It can't be any later than lunch time."

"Hmm," Mycroft agreed non verbally.

Just as they began to settle, the door slammed open and guards stormed in. 

"On your knees, Sherlock," came the order from the screen. 

Not bothering to argue, Sherlock pushed himself to his knees and put his hands behind his head. It made him grimace as he shifted his painful back.

"If you can deduce what I'm thinking, Sherlock, I'll let you both go home right now."

"And if I can't?"

"Then someone gets a penalty." 

"Eurus, it's impossible for me to know what you're thinking. I don't have enough data."

"Yes, you do."

Sherlock couldn't be bothered to argue. 

"Little brother, think,” Mycroft said. “It has to be about something that's happened in the last-"

"Enough, Mycroft!" Eurus snapped. "I never said you could help him. I have half a mind to punish you both for that."

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut as he played back every detail of the day, every word Eurus had said. Nothing stood out to him, no matter how hard he tried.

"You miss us?" Sherlock tried. It was a guess. A guess with about 5% evidence to back it up. If he had the energy he would have shrugged. 

"No, I don't."

"I told you I couldn't do it." Sherlock shook his head. "Do whatever it is you planned. There's nothing I can do to stop you."

"But you're not being any fun," Eurus complained. "You didn't even try."

The detective sighed. "Me guessing what you're thinking is like you guessing what John means to me. You need to keep asking because you can't know."

The screen went black and the guards separated the brothers, dragging them to opposite corners of the cage.

Mycroft was stripped of all his clothes and dragged to his feet. He was handcuffed and the cuffs were hung from high bars. 

"Eurus," Sherlock tried. "Don't hurt him."

Their sister's voice came over the speaker. "I won't hurt him. You will. It's your penalty."

This time, neither John nor Greg were shown on the television. It remained dark. Instead, John and Rosie's voices were piped in over the speaker.

At the sound of Rosie's voice, the detective flipped. He threw one guard that was holding him and kicked the other one in the nuts, then charged for the open cage gate.

It took five guards to bring him down. They cuffed him, hand and foot, then gagged him and dragged him none to gently back in the cage. He fought like a mad man the entire time.

"Eurus, let me go!" Mycroft yelled. 

"No."

"Let me calm him down! Please. He'll hurt himself."

Sherlock raged and fought despite the way he was restrained. How dare she use Rosie, how dare she!

Eurus refused to release Mycroft, despite Sherlock's continued struggles. She let him fight his restraints until he had exhausted himself completely and lay on the floor unmoving.

"Get him on his knees," she ordered eventually. 

The guards dragged Sherlock upright and dropped him on his knees. He hit the floor with a thud and didn't move. The glare he aimed at the nearest camera, though, was deadly. It clearly made the guards nervous as they shifted from foot to foot. It was the first time they had been affected by their two Holmes prisoners in any way.

"Leave him," Eurus ordered. 

The guards quickly backed out of the cage, slamming it shut as they went. 

"Lock, you need to calm down."

Instead of calming down, the detective growled low in his throat. He didn't like it when Eurus threatened John, but he was a grown man with well honed defensive skills. The doctor could protect himself. Rosie was another matter entirely.

After a few minutes, Sherlock managed to get his wrists free of the cuffs. He quickly pulled the gag from his mouth and threw it. Then he set to work on releasing his feet.

"Sherlock," Mycroft called out, "please try to calm down."

The detective got his feet free. "She doesn't touch Rosie. If she does…" He left the sentence hanging, then started working to get Mycroft free.

"If she checks back and realises we're free she won't be happy."

Sherlock fought Mycroft's other wrist free. "I don't give a shit!"

The older Holmes rubbed at his chaffed wrists as he watched Sherlock attack the lock on the cage. He had the feeling this was all going to go very badly.

Mycroft started throwing his clothes back on, and then joined Sherlock. He couldn't leave his brother to get them out alone.

When he moved to Sherlock's side, he discovered how his brother had got free. He had a small, thin piece of metal. "Where did you get that?"

Sherlock shook his head. "I'll not give away my secrets." In truth, he had had it hidden in the cuff of his jacket, beneath the lining.

Once Sherlock had picked the lock on the cage he kicked it open. 

"Now for the door."

But when he reached out for it, it sent a bolt of voltage in his direction.

He yelled out as he fell back against Mycroft who caught him and eased him to the floor. "Are you alright? Lock, say something!"

Sherlock groaned and rolled onto his side.

Mycroft expected the screen to flicker to life, but it didn't. He bent down and lifted Sherlock up, carrying him back into the cage.

"That headache I mentioned earlier," Sherlock said with a groan, "it's really, really bad after that."

"You should have kept your temper," Mycroft chided. "I understand why you didn't, but you simply must."

"I don't care!" Sherlock hissed. "I will kill her if she shows her face again."

"Sherlock…" Mycroft's words trailed off. If Sherlock tried, there was nothing he could do to stop him.

The TV flickered to life now and Eurus appeared on it, a puzzled look on her face. "Mycroft, I appear to have upset our brother. He is upset, correct?"

The older Holmes just glared at the screen, not deigning to reply. He lowered Sherlock into the corner so he could try to relax and protect his back at the same time.

"Mycroft. Mycroft!" Eurus grew increasingly frustrated. "Mycroft, answer me! Why did Sherlock behave in such a manner? I have to understand."

Mycroft still didn't reply, he hated the idea of any harm coming to Eurus, but he hated the idea of harm coming to Rosie or Sherlock more. She could shout and scream as much as she wanted.

"Mycroft," Sherlock growled, "tell me she can't get to Rosie."

"I've increased security on John, Rosie and Greg by an incredible amount. It's highly unlikely." He grimaced at his own phrasing. Unlikely wasn't good enough.

The cell door opened and guards rushed in, guns at the ready.

The government official could see his brother ready to attack again and shook his head minutely. 

With hands on their heads, the two brothers were shoved from the cell, guns pressed at their necks to force compliance that was likely to happen anyway. 

Mycroft was marched along in front of his brother. A fact which made him nervous. He felt as if Sherlock was a time bomb waiting to go off and he couldn't see him to gauge his reaction to whatever they would find at their destination.

"Clothes off!" Came a yell from the screen. 

Not willing to anger her any more than necessary, Mycroft began to take his shirt off again. "Come on, little brother."

With a heavy sigh, Sherlock copied him. 

Soon the pair were naked. They were both shoved to their knees, their hands back at their necks. 

"Neither of you are to move an inch, do not even speak," Eurus ordered sharply. "Or they die."

That was when the side door opened wide, and John and Greg were shoved in.

Mycroft closed his eyes, feeling nauseous.

Sherlock clenched his jaw to keep from shouting out. It was only by a supreme act of will that he remained still. That they were present was bad enough, but what about Rosie?

"Sherlock!" John yelled, just as Greg called out, "Mycroft!"

Neither of the Holmeses moved, both choosing to stare at the floor instead. It was far easier than the alternative.

The doctor was sure Eurus was listening, but he didn't care. "Rosie's not with us. I left her with Mrs. Hudson when Greg and I went out for pints. Tell me she's not here."

Sherlock was forced to silence by his sister's threat. As a result, the worry on John's face increased. It was plain to see that the doctor was near complete panic.

Mycroft was feeling more and more ill the longer there was silence. 

"Mycroft?" 

The DI rushed forward and cupped his cheek. 

"Babe, you've gone really pale."

"He has reason," John muttered. He and Greg hadn't been allowed to talk since they had been abducted. The DI didn't know where they were or who they were facing. The doctor did, and it terrified him.

Greg looked around the room, apart from the guards that stood at the doors the place was… clinical. 

"Where are we?"

"Sherrinford," John whispered. "Where these two have been coming on weekend excursions for months."

There was barely suppressed anger in his voice. Things were starting to make sense. He walked around the two men and saw the welts and bruising on Sherlock's back and arse. He could add two plus two and get four. "She's been threatening us if they didn't come here and agree to be her punching bags."

Greg looked puzzled. "Who is 'she'?"

"Come on, Greg, keep up."

The DI just frowned. "Look, mate, it's been a long day."

"Their little sister. You've met her. But how did she get control of this place again?"

Neither of the kneeling Holmeses answered him.

"Eurus!" John shouted. "What game is this? Hm? It seems rather tame for you." He waited and got no response. "Aren't you going to welcome us to the island? Fix us tea? Threaten to kill one of us?"

When there was no response to that John huffed. He walked back around the two kneeling men and sat in front of Sherlock. 

"Why won't you speak?"

"Never mind that," Greg intervened. "Why won't they move?"

"There's a reason, you can be sure. The question is, are they doing it because of a simple threat, or is it part of a game?"

"What do you mean?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mean, for all we know, they aren't allowed to move until we solve some random puzzle."

"And if they do?"

"If you think it was safe for them to move, don't you think they would have done it by now?"

Two guards stepped up, apparently for no reason, and pressed their rifles into the back of the two Holmeses' necks.

"Hey, we're stepping away, now," Greg said, holding his hands up by his head.

John did likewise, expecting Eurus to appear on the television at any moment. When she didn't, he sighed. 

"How are we supposed to guess what to do?" Greg asked. 

"Last time she shoved a rifle in our direction and 3 pictures with a murder to solve. This is… new, but hardly different."

"Damn." Greg ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not a bloody genius and neither are you. And you're telling me we're up against their sister, the one that's smarter than the both of them."

"That pretty much sums things up. Yes." John looked around the cage for clues, but didn't find any.

The side door opened and two guards came in carrying a trunk. They dumped it in front of the DI and the doctor. Then they backed off out the room. 

John cautiously bent over and slammed the lid back.

"Jesus Christ!" Greg said, taking in the contents of the trunk. "I've only seen a collection like that once. There was a murder at a sex shop." He shook his head. "I don't get it."

John felt sick. "I'm afraid I do."

The two brothers still had their eyes lowered, but from their boyfriends' reaction it wasn't hard to deduce what was in the trunk. 

The two of them wavered where they knelt so straight, the tension they were holding was strenuous.

"Pick something." John ordered, lifting a gag from the trunk. "Make sure it's something that doesn't turn your stomach too much. You're going to have to use it on Mycroft." 

"What?!" Greg started shaking his head. "No, I ca-"

"Do it!" John barked, completely Captain Watson. "Eurus may have Rosie."

The DI took a deep breath. "Alright."

John sighed as he walked towards his kneeling boyfriend. "I'm sorry, babe," he whispered, pressing the gag into the detective's mouth.

Sherlock blinked at him, trying to convey both his understanding and his permission. Obviously, it had been a recording of John and Rosie that Eurus had played earlier. The little girl could be anywhere, his little girl. He would suffer anything to keep her safe.

John buckled it up around the back of his head. As he pressed a kiss to the top of Sherlock's curls a guard stepped forward and replaced the gun, to Sherlock's head. 

John backed off immediately. As much as he loved the idea Rosie was with Mrs. Hudson, he didn't know if he could forgive himself for doing this to Sherlock if she was really ok at home.

"My go," Greg said nervously. He too had chosen a gag. Stepping close to Mycroft, he buckled it in place. He longed to emulate John and drop a kiss to the top of his head, but the guard already had a gun pressed to Mycroft's neck. He backed up, hoping against hope that what they had done would be enough for Eurus.

When they waited a few minutes, with folded arms and bated breath, nothing happened. 

The doctor sighed, closing his eyes. He went back to the trunk. 

The two kneeling men had known it wouldn't be enough, but it was sweet for the two others to pause and try anyway. 

Nothing else in the trunk was so benign. John cringed at the sight of a hood and tossed it aside. He didn't want to use it. He'd always imagined one being used on Sherlock in Serbia. Instead, he picked up a pair of nipple clamps. He tested them on his finger and frowned at how tightly they gripped, but they would have to do.

Sherlock didn't move at all as John approached him. 

"I'm assuming you've been given orders to remain still."

When neither Holmes reacted, John took that as a yes. He didn't like this at all. And these two had been coming here for months.

Only a slight tightening of Sherlock's eyes and a soft hiss gave away the pain he felt when the clamps were put in place. John wanted to say something, anything, but the guard's gun was still in place.

Greg had pulled out a metal chunky thing.

"I don't think Mycroft will like that thing, if this goes much further."

"What is it?"

John swallowed. "It's a cock cage."

Greg tossed it aside like he had been burned. Instead, he went for the leather hood that John had discarded. He carried it over to his boyfriend and slid it over his head. "Sorry," he muttered, "but I don't like the looks of the rest of that stuff." He tugged at the straps on the thing until it fit Mycroft like a glove.

"She knew you would use it," John said in explanation to Greg's confused look.


	5. Now What?

"Now what?" Greg asked. 

John jerked his head at the chest.

Greg wilted. Despite having heard about Eurus and the things she had done, it was completely different living it. Whilst John dug through the chest's contents, the DI picked up a second pair of nipple clamps. They didn't look pleasant, but they weren't as ominous as some of the things in there.

John kicked at the box in frustration.

"What?"

"I've just realised something blatantly obvious."

"Go on."

"All this shit has to be used. She wouldn't have put it in here for any other reason."

Both the brothers had known as much, so they didn't so much as flinch at John's pronouncement.

The doctor looked over and met Sherlock's steady gaze, realising that he understood and was giving his silent permission.

John desperately wanted to know what Eurus had on the pair of them. If he knew maybe they could get out of this. 

"Is there nothing you can do or say to help?" The doctor asked.

Sherlock didn't so much as blink.

"Well, fuck." John resisted the urge to kick the trunk again. Instead, he reached in and pulled out the cock cage Greg had discarded so hastily before. He studied it until he thought he knew how it worked.

Annoyed at the box as well as the circumstances, Greg grabbed the side of the box and tipped it over. The remaining toys fell out and scattered across the floor. 

"What the fuck is that?"

John had seen something like it during his porn browsing. It wasn't something that had appealed to him, but its name fit its function, so he remembered it. "It's a humbler."

"What does it do?" 

"You can't figure that out?"

The DI sighed. "Alright, I can imagine."

"One of them can have the cage, the other gets that thing."

"And we're supposed to just choose," Greg said bitterly.

"Well, it's not a difficult decision for me." John bent, picked up the humbler and handed it to Greg. "I don't know if you saw Sherlock's back, but I'm not putting that thing on him. He's suffering enough. I imagine Mycroft agrees."

The two waited for some response from the older Holmes but he didn't move. 

"Fuck sake. Eurus, what have you done to them?"

The screen crackled on. "They're mine. And they'll stay that way." The screen went blank again.

With more than a little trepidation, Greg approached Mycroft. He wished his boyfriend could give him some sign that he was doing the right thing. The DI looked at the guard. "I need him on all fours."

The guard shoved Mycroft forward roughly.

"That's not what I meant! I was asking for permission!"

The DI winced, when Mycroft didn't manage to hold his head up from the floor in time. 

"Myc, you could have put your hand out." 

"They can't move," John pointed out. "At all."

"Well, that doesn't mean I can't move him."

He tugged at Mycroft's hands and put them beneath him, offering some support. 

When John tried to get Sherlock to lower his hands the guard stepped forward and knocked the detective on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

"Alright, then. I guess not." John knelt in front of Sherlock. It took him a lot longer than he expected to get the cock cage on his boyfriend. He didn't want to pinch delicate skin between unforgiving bits of metal.

John managed to brush his lips against Sherlock's naked shoulder but that was the extent of comfort he could offer.

Greg had taken a moment to figure out that everything had to be latched into the hole in the humbler, not just Mycroft's cock. In retrospect, he felt like a bit of an idiot, but he'd never seen one of the things before. It certainly wasn't something he was eager to see again.

He wanted to apologise but knew it wasn't worth it. Once Mycroft's cock and bollocks were stuck in the horrid wooden thing the guards could do anything and he wouldn't be able to escape it. Not that, he would have moved anyway, Greg realised.

When he joined John again, they both stared down at two large dildos. Neither of them moved to pick one of them up.

After a full minute of their inaction, Eurus appeared on the television and said, "I'm getting dangerously bored," then the screen went black again.

"We're going to have to use them," John pointed out. 

"What if we don't? What if we just say no?"

"Isn't the fact the pair of them aren't moving and barely breathing to keep still answer enough?"

"Yes, dammit." Greg took a deep breath. "What about lube?"

"We don't have any." John looked at the guards, hoping some would be produced, but it wasn't.

"Eurus, listen to me!" John yelled, feeling brave. "I am not putting this inside your brother without some form of help. Do you hear me, Eurus? I will not hurt him for you!"

The TV didn't come on and the guards didn't move. John hoped that was a good sign. After what seemed like forever, another guard entered the cell and tossed a large tube of medical grade lube into the cage.

The doctor sighed in relief. 

"It worked," Greg managed a grin. 

"Don't think it's come for free," John muttered.

"I'll go first." The doctor picked up one of the dildos and the lube, then approached Sherlock. "I'll need some room," he told the guard who stepped back a couple of paces. John knelt behind his boyfriend and set the dildo down, then he opened the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers.

"Alright, babe, lean forward."

One of the guards stepped forward and pressed the gun into the side of Sherlock's head. 

"Piss off!" John snapped.

The guard didn't move.

"Eurus, call your dog off. I'll do this, but I'll do it my way." He waited, holding his breath, until he heard her voice over the loud speaker telling the guard to stand down. "Thank you," he said in a clipped tone. Sherlock leant forward and John started working him open with his fingers.

Greg, figuring he'd best get it over with, stepped forward, he was lucky his boyfriend was already on all fours. 

He copied what John was doing, assuming he knew what he was doing more than, he, himself, did.

John took the tube back and lubed up the dildo. It was incredibly large. He shook his head. "Try to relax for me, babe." He pressed it to Sherlock's hole and began to push it in very slowly.

"Sherlock, you've got to-"

He was stopped from his encouraging words by the guard stepping forward again. 

"You had your chance," Eurus said over the speaker. 

"Fucking hell!"

The guard pushed John aside and shoved the dildo in with one brutal thrust.

Sherlock fell forward and swallowed down a cry of pain.

Only the thought of Rosie kept John from attacking the guard, gun or no gun.

John crouched down beside the detective and helped him up. "Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't-" The doctor was grabbed by the guard and dragged to the side of the cage.

Greg swallowed hard. He grabbed the lube and slicked up the dildo. He moved faster than John had, but still slowly enough that he hoped he wasn't hurting Mycroft too badly as he pushed the dildo into his hole.

It must have helped, the way Mycroft was knelt, he was positioned far more comfortably than Sherlock was. 

John yanked and thrashed in the guards grip. He pulled against him so much, he was forced to his knees and cuffed to the cage bars.

Greg looked around, not knowing what to expect. "Eurus? What happens now?" There was no reply. "Oh, come on! We used everything. Surely they can move or talk. Something!"

Greg dropped his hand to Mycroft's hooded head, trying to convey his love through that touch alone. He found himself also dropping his hand on Sherlock's, seeing as his boyfriend was locked across the room.

"Eurus, I'm the least smart of the four of us. I'm not ashamed to admit it." Greg's fingers caught in Sherlock's curls absently. "Mycroft calls me his goldfish. He doesn't think I know it. But compared to you I've got to seem like a gnat. Please, just tell me what to do."

The guards turned and walked from the room. 

Greg stared dumbly after them, "is that a sign?"

There was no answer but instead a side door opened and Eurus walked. 

There was like some switch had been flicked in Sherlock. He ripped the dildo from his arse, not caring that it hurt like hell and instead lunged for his sister, throwing her into the cage wall. 

He quickly spat the gag out. "How fucking dare you bring Rosie into this!" He hissed, he couldn't control his hands around her throat.

Greg rushed over. "Don't kill her. If Rosie is here, what would be the consequences to her?"

Sherlock let out a roar and flung Eurus to the floor, then he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her knees.

The door slid open again and guards rushed in, it took 6 of them to pin Sherlock to the floor, his arms up his back. 2 of them helped Eurus to her feet.

She looked at the DI. "He didn't start acting like this until he heard Rosie's voice. Why does the mention of the little girl upset him so? She's not even properly a person."

All that did was manage to rile Sherlock up further, he managed to throw two of the guards but they outnumbered him by too many for it to actually make a difference. 

Across the cage, John too, had begun putting up a fight.

Mycroft couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear it. When he felt hands on his head, he startled.

"It's me," Greg hissed. "It's all going to hell." He fumbled with the straps and got the hood off of Mycroft.

Then managed to get the humbler off him. 

Mycroft yanked the gag from his mouth and launched it then charged towards his brother. "Get off him!" He spat. "Right now!"

Greg soon joined in the melee, trying to help extract Sherlock, but to no avail. He ended up being dragged under the pile where he was less than useful.

Eurus watched on in amusement, her head tilted to one side. 

"Alright. Get off him."

The guards backed off and this time it was Mycroft and Greg who physically controlled the detective.

For the first time in her life, Eurus laughed. She looked surprised at the sound that was coming out of her own mouth. "Am I laughing? Is that what this is." She looked at Mycroft. "Did I get it right?"

Mycroft glared at his sister as he helped Sherlock to his feet.

The detective wasn't upright long before he tried to lunge again. 

"Ow!" He cried as Mycroft rammed his arms up his back and kept him still. He hated to do it but it was the only thing that would stop him. 

"Cool it, little brother."

Greg was horrified. He had thought Moriarty was the epitome of insanity. How wrong he had been. "Yeah... Sherlock, try to keep calm. I don't like the look in her eyes."

"It's the same look she always has," the detective spat. "She doesn't have another."

"I do!" It was a lie and they all knew it. 

Sherlock struggled one last time and then fell still in Mycroft's arms. 

"Get off me, Mycroft!"

"Not happening. The second I let you go our little sister will be dead."

"She threatened Rosie."

"I never did!"

"You did. You let me hear John and Rosie's voices. How could I interpret it as anything but a threat?"

Eurus rolled her eyes. "Why would I threaten a child? A non-person. They are boring."

Sherlock bared his teeth and began thrashing in Mycroft's grip again, hurting himself, but the older brother couldn't let go. The consequences would be far worse. 

"Sherlock!" John yelled. "Rosie's fine! Calm down!"

"Eurus, uncuff him," Greg ordered. "John will dissolve this situation."

For once, she listened to someone besides herself. "Release the doctor," she ordered one of the guards.

John rubbed his wrists, then walked over to Sherlock, but not without shooting a glare at Eurus. "Where is our daughter?"

"Safe where you left her."

"Fuck sake." Content, Eurus would have no reason to lie, he turned his attention on Sherlock. He cupped his cheeks in his hands. 

"Sherlock!" He barked, completely Captain Watson. "Cool it!"

Sherlock's eyes jerked from Eurus to John. Whatever he saw there had an immediate effect. He sagged in Mycroft and Greg's grip, his eyes falling shut. For one brief moment, the doctor thought he had actually passed out.

The detective's eyes stayed shut for a very long time. 

"John," he whispered after a moment. "My back hurts."

"Yeah, I get that." John edged Greg out of the way and took his place. "Any chance of some paracetamol?" he asked Eurus without much hope.

"We're going," Mycroft decided. "And I'm taking back control of this place."

"No!" She yelled, more screamed. The room flooded with guards and the brothers shared glances. 

"Mycroft…" Sherlock warned. "It won't happen."

Mycroft silently conceded the point. "Then at least leave us alone for a few hours. Let us rest. We've had enough for one day. More than enough."

"Mrs. Hudson will be wondering where you are. Go home." 

Eurus turned and walked out of the room. 

"Wait!" Mycroft yelled. "Don't go!"

"Make your mind up, brother dear."

The government official sighed, he knew what was coming. "I'll come back. Next month."

Sherlock swallowed heavily. "Me too."

John started to say something as did Greg, but looks from their boyfriend’s silenced them. They would talk about it later, away from Eurus' prying ears.

"Go, brother dears."

"I want my suit!" Mycroft yelled. 

Two guards appeared and threw clothes at them. 

Sherlock whimpered as he stretched to catch them. 

"What did she have over you two? You didn't move an inch for the whole time!"

"You," Sherlock whispered.

"And guns," Mycroft finished. Nothing else needed saying.


End file.
